


In another universe, perhaps, I met you and you met me and something different happened

by WriteForTheSakeOfWriting



Category: The Pinkertons (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Law Enforcement, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Politics, Alternate Universe - Restaurant, Alternate Universe - Teachers, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Suicide, Suicide: chapter 2
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-03-07 12:09:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13434432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriteForTheSakeOfWriting/pseuds/WriteForTheSakeOfWriting
Summary: In the universe we're aware of, Will and Kate met when they were assigned to work together as Pinkerton agents. In other universes, perhaps other things happened.This is a collection of AU one-shots; each chapter is independent of the others.





	1. Perhaps we meet by chance and it all slips into place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kate's roommate Annalee is great, she really is. She's actually one of Kate's closest friends. But the thing about shared rooms is, perhaps it's almost better if your roommate is deeply unpopular and Annalee isn't. As a result, Kate does spend a significant amount of time not in her room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'we both got kicked out of our rooms because our roommates are having sex so now we’re standing in the hallway avoiding each other' AU

Kate barely looked up from her desk as the door to her shared dorm room opened behind her. Turning to ask her roommate about grabbing their meal together, she paused, closed her eyes tightly, and shut the lid of her laptop down. She then walked, eyes still tightly closed, towards the door, stumbling out into the hallway. Shaking her head, she sat against the wall and reopened her laptop. She returned to her essay for her US History class, discussing the impact of private detective agencies and the development of sheriffs on the westward expansion of the USA.

Eventually, she finished up her paragraph and decided to take a break. Her first option was Netflix but tapping her pockets she realized she had left her headphones in her room. She groaned and leant behind her to hammer on the door.

"Annalee?"

"Go 'way," came the response from under noises Kate chose not to think about too deeply.

Undeterred she hit play, with subtitles on and volume turned way down low. "You are being watched: the government has a machine that spies on you..." But as engaging as she found the show, her attention was immediately drawn away by a loud bang from down the hall.

"Kenji, bro, come on, I don't even have my ID on me."

Kate hid her snigger in the collar of her sweater and tried to return her attention to Sameen Shaw's violent New York escapades. But her new hallway companion seemed determined to make that impossible.

"Aww, dammit. Kenji, I'm hungry and you have my ID in there with you and your ... Give me my ID dammit!"

Kate continued to giggle quietly, even as the young man down the hall started to walk towards her.

"Roommates. You'd think when you get to choose 'em, you wouldn't want to strangle them every two weeks."

Kate looked up to realize her distant hallway companion had suddenly become rather closer and was talking to her. Frowning, she returned to her Netflix show and deliberately increased the volume it was playing at.

"Oh my Lord, you're Kate Warne."

Kate glared at the guy standing in front of her and his worn University Missouri-Kansas City sweater, although she could feel recognition dawning slowly. Something about his accent, a strange hybrid of Chicago and perhaps Canadian, seemed to speak to her memory.

The man, the obnoxious but somehow still slightly charming man, sat down on the other side of the hallway opposite her and began to talk again. The politeness ingrained in her demanded she pause her show.

"I'm Will, Will Pinkerton. We both took that ethics of policing policy class last semester?"

Kate nodded, realization dawning. "Right. You suggested the reason men fire more frequently is because they're better shots because they train more and thus more confident in their shooting skills."

Will held his hands up in mock surrender, "I was wrong. My opinions have changed. But why is Kate Warne, undisputed top student of the ethics and policy department, sitting in the corridor outside her dorm on a Thursday evening?"

Kate shrugged and explained, feeling a blush rise on her cheeks and dreading the teasing from the blush. Will smiled back, pointing his thumb over his shoulder towards his own dorm room, where a roommate presumable by the name of Kenji was "enjoying himself" with a girl Kate had to guess was called Abigail.

There was something sympathetic in his smile, which Kate had not expected from their strongly worded albeit impersonal debates in that ethics and policy class. Nonetheless, she had no interest in spending her evening talking to anyone let alone Will Pinkerton.

Clearly Will could not stand a silence as he had started talking again, this time about some ethics class he was taking this semester.

"Never thought I was going to be a ethics or policy guy, except y'know the ones required for a criminology major, but something about that class last semester really made me think y'know, huh, this is interesting."

Kate nodded. As a public policy and history major, she had taken her fair share of fascinating—and also not so interesting—ethics classes. Although she had discovered her interested far earlier than the second semester of junior year as Will claimed to have.

"Yeah well, I'd never taken a proper ethics class, had I? Just the criminology ones with a bunch of future cops taking studious notes and memorizing every word for the next test. But suddenly, I'm in advanced ethics of policing and the intersection with policy and all the gosh darned government majors are actually debating and arguing. That's interesting."

"Gosh darned?"

"Oh dammit. My brother is never going to let me hear the end of that one. I'm from Chicago, goddammit!"

Kate couldn't help herself, she laughed. Will just looked so disappointed and annoyed with himself.

"We're in Kansas City, Missouri, it was only a matter of time till you started talking like it."

"But I'm a junior. I made it two years without saying _y'all_ for fuck's sake."

Kate laughed, really laughed, like she hadn't in a while. "There you go; just keep swearing like that and no one will ever think you're a Missouri native."

Will looked pleased about that, and then immediately apologetic, in case she was from Missouri, because he never meant to offend anyone, just, y'know he's from Chicago and not Missouri.

Kate cut off the flow of seemingly endless apologies and stammering, with a gentle reassurance that no, she wasn't from Missouri and even if she was, she wouldn't be offended.

They talked about Chicago, about Will's dad who was a police detective and proud of his Scottish heritage, and Will's "mum" who actually was Scottish, a Glaswegian at that. Will did a pretty good Scottish accent it turned out. Will talked about majoring in criminology, and preparing to become a police detective.

Kate found herself talking about her history classes and how she was so sure she wanted to major in public policy, but she was always one of only a few students who didn't already have connections to government. She even told him about her dreams of law school but it was so expensive and she didn't want to sell her soul to corporate. She paused then, suddenly realizing Will now knew as much about her and her impossible dreams as Annalee did.

It was nice talking to Will, Kate thought to herself. There was something of their class debates in it: she remembered him now, always had an opinion, but didn't always feel the need or right to share. He had not always been the most eloquent, but smart, so damn smart, and willing to admit defeat and change his mind, yet pushed her to always reconsider her stance, and sometimes she had even changed it. The quick back-and-forth and the carefree, personal but not probing way Will asked questions, questions she instinctively knew she didn't have to answer, felt comfortable.

She rolled her eyes, both at Will's latest terrible policy pun and her own romanticism. Life doesn't work like that, and she knew that. Knew it always, and especially since sophomore year.

"Dinner?" Will's question shook Kate out of her quiet consideration and she frowned.

"It's like 8:00, the dining hall shuts at like 9:00, and that last half hour rush is just over caffeinated all-nighters and frat boys."

Kate laughed, again, and shrugged. "Sure, although I was always sure you were a frat boy."

Standing, Will placed a hand on his heart in mock pain, "You wound me Kate. I don't need Greek letters on a sweater to party. Also, criminology major, future police officer, criminal record doesn't really fit with that?"

Kate nodded and stood up, tucking her laptop under her arm and checking her pocket for her ID.

The two of them walked down the hallway, chatting still. It was just as they crossed the quad towards the dining hall that Will turned to Kate with a strangely shy grin on his face for a guy, who'd just spent forty-five minutes spilling his guts about all manner of things.

"This is awkward but uh, I think you're maybe going to have to pay for my food?"

Kate stopped still, staring at him.

"I'll pay you back, of course, as soon as I can!"

She continued to stare at him; he was a little shamefaced but still smiling gently.

"You know, my ID is still in the room with Kenji and Abigail?"

Kate sighed, shaking her head but a smile still tugged at the corners of her mouth at Will's awkward grin and only half-apology.

"Will Pinkerton!"

Upon learning that she'd have to lend Will money for his dinner, Kate tried to sound annoyed, but something about Will's ashamed but still smirking expression stopped her. "Yes, okay I guess. I don't know when I became such a trusting college student because I'm pretty sure I barely know you."

"I'll owe you one. And you know where I live so it's not like I can skip out on it."

Kate shook her head and they walked into the dining hall together, laughing about the interesting quote on the sign outside.

'I'm telling you; no one has ever chosen University Missouri over UMASS for the food."

"I don't know Kate, Southern comfort food has a lot going for it."

Kate pulled a face and remarked on the compatibility of waffles and chicken. They ended up sat in the back corner of the cafeteria, still talking. They were still there an hour later when the cafeteria closed and they wandered back to the dorm still talking.

Kate had noticed that her and Will had talked about a lot of relatively meaningless but unmentioned things. She'd never really talked to anyone about how fucking expensive law school was and how much that freaked her out. It didn’t seem like Will talked much about growing up as a cop's kid but still wanting to be a police officer, maybe even a detective someday. She appreciated how he didn’t judge her and they had just chatted, for hours. There was nothing deep or weird or overly personal, just a whole lot of stuff that other people didn’t talk about.

Kate hadn't talked to someone for this long since orientation freshman year and playing an all night game of truth-or-dare with her roommates. She told Will and he laughed loudly, voice echoing around the virtually empty quad.

They were back at the dorm now. Kate swiped them in and they headed up to the fourth floor.

“This is me,” Kate smiled, blushing suddenly. “So uh, I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah, catch you later?” Will grinned back, more self-assured but not quite certain what to do with his hands.

Kate unlocked the door to her dorm, looking back to see Will knocking on his door, and it opening slowly. Will looked back at her then and she quickly looked away. She pushed the door but it would only open a tiny fraction, hitting loudly into something heavy and immovable.

"Go 'way Kate." Annalee groaned at the noise.

Kate groaned, and looked back down the corridor to Will's still open door. "Will?" she called, suddenly brave again.

"Yeah?" Will poked his head out of the door.

"Want to go for cookies at insomnia?"

"Do you even know me? Would I ever turn down insomnia cookies?" Will walked out of the dorm, pulling his sweater back on as he did. "They're only, like, the best cookies this side of the Atlantic and the only ones you can buy, still warm when it's," he checked his watch, "nine fifteen at night on a Tuesday."

Kate shrugged as she shut the door again. "I honestly don't know, I don't actually know you."

Will laughed again; it was a warm, infectious laugh that she realized she wanted to hear again as soon as it stopped. "Well, I'd like you to actually know me."

Kate looked at him; her surprise was clearly evident on her face as Will ducked his head and began to rub the back of his neck.

She smiled at him, clamping down on the strange, unsettling feeling in her gut. "I'd like that too."

Will smiled back at her.

"Cookies?"

"Cookies."


	2. Perhaps you interrupt my routine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kate Warne is an FBI agent, driven, motivated and struggling with demons she wouldn't wish on anyone. The Dubois is often her sanctuary, and her routine on the nights she needs it is always the same.
> 
> Until. one night, it isn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'the new bartender at my favourite bar is unfairly attractive' AU
> 
> Trigger Warning: fairly graphic discussion of suicide

Kate groaned and non-too-gently hit her head down onto the counter. Another good thing about this bar, the countertop was never sticky. This bar was great: Annalee and her girls knew her order, it was quiet, the countertop was never sticky, and ghosts from her past never showed up to bring all the pain and suffering back.

"What can I get you tonight?” a warm voice asked from somewhere above her.

"Usual." Kate muttered her response from where she still had her forehead pressed to the bar.

The warm voice hummed loudly. "Sorry, but I have no idea what that is. Nice to meet you, by the way, my name's Will."

Kate slowly lifted her head off the bar and sighed. "Whisky, neat."

"Coming right up." The owner of the warm voice smiled at her.

Kate muttered a curt thanks with her forehead once again slumped against the counter.

She drank four whiskeys at the bar that night, all served by Will with the warm voice. She took an Uber home, collapsed into bed and finished off the vodka left over from John's horrendous breakup. She would buy him more tomorrow.

* * *

The next time Kate went to the DuBois was the following Friday. John had brought some friends from work and Kate got along with them well enough. They were laughing, at John's expense, when Kate's turn to order a round came.

"And that's how John scalded himself making coffee using a Keurig machine, oh and another beer for me please Kate."

Kate nodded and walked over to the bar.

"Hi. Three beers, a glass of white, and a mint julep, thanks." Kate smiled at the new bartender who she perhaps knew from somewhere.

"That'll be 28.78." The bartender smiled back at her and the niggling sense of recognition grew stronger.

As he poured the pints, Kate took a seat and reached down to rub the arches of her feet where her heels had caused them to cramp. Damn office job.

"No whiskey this time?" The bartender had a nice smile she noticed, and the beard wasn't unattractive per se.

"I... no?"

"Last time I saw you, you drank four neat whiskeys in two hours with your head on the bar the rest of the time."

Kate frowned. She remembered that day.

"There're bad days, and there're four whiskey days, right?" Will was smiling sympathetically at her as he began to place mint and sugar in the bottom of the julep glass.

Kate nodded slowly and pulled her purse out of her handbag, beginning to count out the cash.

"How's a Yankee like you end up in Missouri?"

"It's a ... long story."

Will smiled at her encouragingly. "Well, it's a slow night and I'd love to hear it."

Kate flushed and looked away. The bartender really was unfairly attractive for a man flirting for tips. Just as she prepared a throwaway comment about the cost of living, the man behind the bar swore violently. Kate sniggered quietly as he began to mop up the mess of ice and seltzer water, and gingerly pick up the pieces of shattered glass.

"What you laughing at?" the bartender responded petulantly as Annalee reached behind him for a bottle of expensive vodka. She smiled at Kate over his shoulder and Kate smiled back at her.

"I'm easily amused."

"Take your goddamn drinks." He pulled a face as he began to mop up the sticky, gritty mess.

Kate put down the cash and picked up the tray. She carried it over to the table where John and his friends were sat, now gossiping about another of their coworkers.

"I'm telling you that Madeleine McGoldrick, she's a greedy bitch, through and through. She works the interns half to death. Thank you, Kate, darlin'."

"You're welcome, Sam." Kate's attention flicked back to the bar where Annalee was teasing Will about the mess he'd made.

"What took so long Kate? Do you need some more cash?" Kenji's girlfriend Abigail asked sweetly, as she sipped at her mocktail.

"No, Abigail, the cute bartender was what took her so long," John elbowed in her side as he responded.

"Shuddup."

"What? It's a good thing. You need to get back out there." Miyo was smiling over the top of her beer bottle.

Kate rolled her eyes and conversation turned to upcoming football games, college and pro. Besides a hometown loyalty to the Giants and associated dislike of the Pats, Kate had very little interest in football and certainly not the level of passion the people around her seemed to have. She had stopped paying attention when a voice behind her interrupted her thoughts.

"Mint julep?"

"Thanks." She smiled at the bartender who for some reason had brought her drink to their table.

Will seemed to have noticed her confusion and shrugged, "You already paid for it before I broke the last one. Annalee told me I couldn't let her favorite regular go without her drink."

Kate blushed. Will was really unfairly attractive for someone so clumsy. He was trying to flirt with Miyo then but she shut him down with a smile and a laugh. He accepted gracefully and wandered back over to the bar.

"Kate!" Miyo was suddenly really close to her face, leaning across the table. "He was trying to flirt with you and you just ignored it. You need a date and if Annalee hired him, we know he's a nice guy."

Kate smiled softly. "No thanks Miyo, I'm not dating at the moment."

Miyo sighed and leaned back into her seat. "Just sleep with him then!" she suddenly remarked.

Kate felt herself physically recoil, but she laughed it off quickly and started to talk about the latest tv craze, a show about kids and monsters and something to do with telekinesis she believed, despite the fact she personally didn't watch it. The group left the issue of the cute bartender alone after that.

* * *

On an average week, between long days at work, binging Netflix when she was too tired to do anything and eating a once weekly takeout meal with Kenji as roommates, she probably ended up at the Dubois twice a week, normally with friends but sometimes alone. Such were the perils of having a great neighborhood bar in walking distance of her apartment: you get to know the unfairly attractive but incredibly annoying bartender far too well.

As a FBI agent, Kate had seen far too many of her coworkers and superiors fall into the bottle and struggle to get back out. Drinking at a bar, especially Annalee's, meant she didn't do that. Annalee had sent her home once, had called a cab for a three block walk because she was too drunk. The bartenders refused to serve her anything but fruit juice and coffee for the rest of the week till she "looked like she wasn't gonna drink herself blind the moment she could."

So when she came to the bar alone for the third time in two weeks, Annalee had pursed her lips and placed her hands on her hips.

"Kate Warne, I've cut you off twice in 10 days. Why the hell you here?"

"Friendly face?" Kate offered weekly. "Kenji's working another night shift, John had a shitstorm of plumbing to get fixed and if I sit in my apartment alone tonight I'm going to lose my mind."

Annalee nodded slowly, seemingly to herself. "Okay, but I'm limiting you to two drinks, okay? Will, you hear me, don't let Kate drunk herself stupid tonight?"

From down the bar, Will responded in the affirmative and, when Kate tried to order a whiskey after two mint juleps he refused and handed her a coffee instead.

"On the house, but don't you try to weasel another drink out of me instead. Annalee will kill me if I let her friend pass out on the bar when she told me not to let you."

"I wouldn't-" Kate started defensively, but Will cut her off.

"Yeah you would. I know FBI agents and you look like one of those agents who can't deal with what she's done, but everyone around you celebrates it so you can't tell anyone how fucked you feel so you drink yourself to sleep multiple times a week when it's bad but you drink here so you don't feel like you're an alcoholic and you know Annalee won't let you hurt yourself."

"What. The. Fuck." Kate stared at him, open-mouthed and suddenly furious. "Who the fuck are you, Will? Why ... what...? Fuck off."

Will smirked at her. "My dad was an FBI agent, I grew up around agents and their kids and most of the kids went into law enforcement. You're FBI, not local cop because you're as Yankee as I am, and you've made no effort to try and fit in. You don't like what you did because you drink to forget but no one else feels the same way about it because you drink alone."

"Why the fuck did Annalee hire you? To scare away her customers?" Kate scowled at Will's smug, stupidly attractively face, that she desperately wanted to punch.

Will turned away from her without a response and served the other customers while Kate sipped slowly at her coffee and tried not to cry.

"Here." Will thumped a tequila shot down in front her. "Drink this. Go home. Don't watch a movie or screw around on Facebook or anything. Go to sleep. And come back here tomorrow, I'll have more decaf coffee for you to drink." He smiled but it didn't reach his eyes.

Kate followed his instructions. It was easier than thinking for herself that night.

* * *

She did come back the next day and, true to his word, Will lined up a whiskey glass and a mug when she walked in. It was a few hours later, just after the evening rush had subsided and before the late drinkers showed up when Will came back to collect the whiskey glass and pour her coffee. He smiled and suddenly she felt an overwhelming need to tell someone, anyone the truth.

She looked at him, sniffled and talked slowly, carefully. "I was part of a team investigating a series of civil rights complaints against a major trading firm. Racial discrimination in hiring and promotion, allegations of sexual harassment to the extent of senior executives propositioning new hires. I could go on." She paused and swallowed. "I was a junior agent, I was supposed to try and get information out of junior executives. I was good at it, y'know. I made them want to tell me things, impress me. It wasn't hard." She looked up at him again, tears beginning to form in her eyes. Will paused pouring the coffee and put the pot down on the bar, smiling kindly.

"And then, when it all came out about the investigation, they fired him, the junior executive who gave me most of my information. He didn't know I was FBI. They made up some reason, I don't know what. It even helped our case in court."

She looked away from Will now. "I don't know why I'm telling you this. I'm sure you have other things to do."

Will reached out, as if about to grab her hand but stopped himself.

Kate took that as sufficient reason to continue talking. "He killed himself. The junior executive. He struggled with depression and being fired and realizing I'd lied to him, it pushed him over the age." Will came and sat next to her on the barstools now. "Everyone told me not to blame myself, depression is an illness, and it wasn't my fault. They kept telling me how good my work was and talking about how I might get a commendation. Charlie's dead and I might get a commendation?" Her voice cracked and tears began to fall down her face. Politely, Will ignored them.

"It doesn’t hurt as constantly as it used to. But sometimes it all comes flooding back, the moment they announced it to the bullpen and the crying that I didn't even realize was mine. Like the first time I was here: I saw someone who looked like him and a friend of his out of the corner of my eye. They were doing tequila shots at the bar I was at with my coworkers. I felt physically sick, even though it only took me half a second to realize it wasn't him. " She was crying more heavily now and Will handed her a tissue. People had begun to arrive then, and she wanted to tell him to go serve them, but having him them was strangely reassuring. Will poured her another cup of coffee and sat there with her till finally she nodded and stood up.

"Thank you Will. Goodnight."

* * *

The next time the memories came flooding back, she went to the Dubois and played darts with Will until closing time. It wasn't till she got home, that she realized she had only drunk coffee.

* * *

The time after that she woke up at 3 am, screaming, imaging Charlie's blood seeping into the wood of the floor in his bedroom and his hand clutching the gun and then letting it go as the light faded from his eyes.

"Kate, sweetheart, Kate." Strong arms wrapped around her and soft voice tried to soothe her. The light next to the bed switched on and her surroundings began to return to her. She was in her bed in her flat, under the covers with Will's arms wrapped around her. She began to stammer out an explanation or an apology-she wasn't sure which-but Will hushed her gently. He hugged her close to him, till she began to breathe normally again.

"Coffee?"

She nodded slowly and Will slipped out of bed.

When he came back moments later, he found her sitting on the floor by their bed wrapped in a blanket and shaking. He sat next to her, wrapped an arm around her shoulders and handed her the coffee.

"Do you remember the first time we ended up drinking coffee?" Kate felt, rather than heard Will's affirming murmur. "I told myself I told you because I was drunk and sad and needed to tell someone before I exploded. And all of that was true, but I told you because I realized that you would listen without judgment."

Will hugged her tightly and pressed a gentle kiss to her hair. "I'll always listen to you, Kate."

They sat there, wrapped in the blankets till morning came, sunshine gently streaming through the blinds.


	3. Or perhaps you interrupt mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will Pinkerton prides himself on being one of his students' favourite teachers. He also prides himself on using his time efficiently every day, but today things keep going, not exactly wrong, but not quite right either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> high school teachers AU

Will Pinkerton had his morning routine done to the minute. Roll out of bed after the third snooze and shower quickly. Then dress in a shirt and slacks, put a bagel in the toaster, and set the coffee machine to brew. Right after that, put socks and shoes on, grab his jacket off the chair and check for keys and wallet. Cream cheese on the bagel, grading in the bag, and milk in the coffee.

Today, he walked out the door, still riding the high of the Bears' unexpected win the night before. As normal, he drove to work (today at the speed limit) and pulled into the parking lot to park in the -what?

Every day Will parked in the 3rd space from the end of the first row of faculty parking. It was slightly larger than other spaces, making it easier and quicker to park. But today, someone else was parked there.

Will drove past the filled space, silently seething and parked in a spot much further away. Scowling, he walked into the school building just before 7 am.

He loudly slurped his coffee, jogging up the stairs to the department office.

"Morning y'all!" The caffeine had begun to kick and he felt ready to face a day of persuading uninterested sophomores to learn about treaty negotiations and convincing overstressed juniors to pause their college application drama sufficiently to actually learn something about the aftermath of World War II.

"Morning Will. One of your students left a note on your desk?" Annalee called to him from her seat near the very back of the room, over what appeared to be a large pile of grading.

"Thanks, Annalee." The pair of teachers shared a grimace at the piles of work they had on their desks. Will sat down heavily but smiled to see the essay he'd been promised in his last period class yesterday. "Good on Jane, she told me she'd get it to me before school started today." Annalee rolled her eyes at his willingness to extend deadlines if he truly believed the person had simply forgotten or had a genuine reason to need more time to finish.

Will emptied his bag's contents on to his desks and began to organize his folders for the day. He was teaching first, second, fourth, sixth and eighth periods so he needed his tests and PowerPoint presentation ready for the first hour and a half of the day.

Ready, he headed down the hallway to his first-period classroom and began to connect his laptop to the projector as students began to trickle into the room.

Almost two hours later, he cracked his neck, stretched and headed out in search of coffee. Rubbing a particular knot he seemed to have developed in his shoulder, he turned left towards the opposite wing of the building. He had a grading period now and knew the best coffee, and therefore the best chance of him making headway on the pile of pop quizzes and essays on his desk, was to be found in the Science faculty center.

Possibly due to the exact alignment of the complex coffee system—thank a physicist—, the coffee there was vastly superior to that of the History department. The frequent drinking of the coffee by other faculty was grudgingly accepted by the science teachers. Given the control held over science teachers schedule by lab periods, the majority of the science department taught this period and the coffee would otherwise have gone to waste. In exchange, food surplus to requirements more frequently made its way there than other faculty centers.

Today, however, the coffee pot was completely empty. How that occurred at KCHS, which seemingly ran on caffeine, anxiety and pre-packed lunches Will did not know.

What were likely the last dregs of the pot sat, stone cold now, in a mug next to it. The mug, Will noticed, was decorated with a particularly apt quote: "Don't ask for extra credit till you've done the regular credit."

Deigning to fill the empty pot, Will then returned to his classroom to grade essays. He got through two and a half before the bell rang and his second class of juniors showed up. His plan was to begin the class by explaining the atom bomb and its usage, not least the horrific aftermath. However, he hoped to end on a lighter note with an animation showing the various negotiations at Yalta and Potsdam and a clip of Donal Duck in Disney cartoon propaganda for the navy.

"How many of you have the faintest clue as to how the atom bomb actually works?" To Will's surprise, rather than the customary three or four, as had been the case in previous years and even last class, just over half the class, twelve or thirteen students, confidently raised their hands.

Several students began to talk at once, overlapping but still comprehensible:

"We just covered it-" One began slowly.

"-this morning in Chem-", interrupted another quickly.

"-Miss Warne said someone who actually knew what they were talking about should tell us, before a History teacher tried," finished a third, dropping off as they realized what they had said.

Will frowned, but did not comment. Shaking his head, he "Can someone explain it to the rest of the class then?" With that part of the class over much quicker than anticipated but not wanting to dwell too long on the photographs of the aftermath, he moved onto the negotiations at Potsdam.

All too soon they had completed his lesson plan but still had ten minutes to go; too long to leave the class to their own devices but not enough time to begin discussions and comparisons with the Treaty of Versailles.

Suppressing a sigh, Will completed today's slideshow and asked if there were any questions.

Giggling, Abigail raised her hand.

"Yes, Abigail?" Abigail had a tendency to ask questions only tangentially related to the historical topic at hand.

"Mr. P, have you met Miss Warne the new Chemistry teacher?"

Will raised his eyebrows, both at Abigail's continued refusal to use his full name and at the strangeness of the question. "No, I haven't. Any questions, comments or concerns, relevant to the lesson today?"

There were a few, but after that Will left the class to their phones and excited discussion of the new Chemistry teacher who had—according to the students—simply shown up without warning this morning. Will had been as surprised as his students that the school district had been so quick to act but he imagined the superintendent had slept poorly since she had been informed of Miss Warne's predecessor's sudden departure.

Eventually, the bell rang, dismissing the class and Will sank into his desk chair, disconnecting his laptop from the projector and grading another stack of quizzes before realizing he needed to eat lunch.

Sitting in the teacher's cafeteria, he began to eat his cold pizza, leftover from the night before, as he reached into his wallet. He had already deposited three dollars when he realized: there were no seltzer waters left. Actually groaning this time, because it seemed as if the universe was out to spoil his day, he chose lemonade instead, because he was fully aware he needed to drink less caffeine if he intended to make it to middle age.

The rest of the day passed by in a blur. Another discussion of the War of 1812 was repetitive and unfortunately forgettable. He spent a busy and productive hour with the English Language Learner group, covering the basics in a way that would help them pass state-run reading comprehension tests and—less cynically—understand pop culture references.

The final bell rang, abruptly ending the discussion that had begun over the motivations for the revolutionary war, and Will packed up his bag. He walked across the hallway to the history faculty center. It was approximately forty-five minutes into grading essays (another two down, twenty to go) that he realized he desperately needed to get out of the school building. He had decided before he had even reached the school that morning that he wanted to grade at home on his sofa that evening, not in the windowless, airless department center.

It was as he walked out of school that he saw the woman that had pointed out to him as the new Chemistry teacher, Miss Warne.

He realized quickly that he was following her to the east door, not walking fast enough to catch up to her but not so slow that she would not notice him. It was while crossing the common area that he noticed the bottle of seltzer in her hand and frowned slightly. As she walked out the door and she unlocked her car, he saw that it had been her who had "stolen" "his" spot that morning and felt petty and—honestly—uncalled for annoyance arise.

"Miss Warne?” he asked when he caught up to her as she paused on the sidewalk to answer a text.

She turned and looked at him, taken aback slightly once she realized he was not a student.

He extended his hand. "Will Pinkerton, History."

She smiled at him, "Kate Warne, Chemistry." She put her phone back in her pocket and switched the seltzer bottle to her left hand where she already held a mug to shake his hand.

'How was your first day?" he asked politely.

"Busy."

Will chuckled and wished her luck and walked across the parking lot towards his car. The morning's smile was valiantly fighting to make a reappearance.


	4. Perhaps I punch you the first time we meet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will Pinkerton has realized that it certainly couldn't hurt to switch up his workouts and decides to try a class at the local Kung Fu center. What could go wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kung Fu AU

"Kate, this is Will. Will, this is Kate. Stick with her and you'll be all right." Kate smiled at this tall, bearded stranger as her instructor Sam introduced them before hurrying back to the desk to take payment for a uniform. Will smiled back at her, but the nerves of his first class were clearly beginning to get to him as he only nodded quickly and looked over at the other students in their matching uniforms, who were beginning to stretch and warm up.

Will lined up next to Kate as she swung her arms and rolled her shoulders. Like almost all the other students, she wore a pale blue shirt, which fastened in front of the neck and down the chest with thread toggles, resembling those he had seen in movies. Kate also had a green sash tied around her waist, while other students had white, yellow, or even purple sashes.

Will began to stretch out his arms and legs, then flexing his wrists and ankles, shocked by how stiff they were.

"Have you ever done martial arts before?” Kate asked politely as she reached behind her to grab her elbow above her head and stretch her triceps muscles.

Will shook his head as he gently stretched out his calf. "No, I've done a bit of boxing but nothing like I imagine this will be."

Kate laughed softly, not mockingly, but certainly at Will's expense. "I got into this about a year and a half ago, but I did taekwondo as a kid and kickboxing in college. Sam's great though, really a wonderful instructor."

Will nodded. Sam (the owner and head instructor) came across as a really nice person and, hopefully, his class would be as good as Kate was suggesting. The two chatted intermittently about their work and exercising in general as they stretched. Kate, he learned, was a paralegal and was saving to go to law school.

Soon the instructor called the class to attention. They "bowed in" as a sign of respect to the teacher and the school and began the warm up with stretches, and later punches, kicks, and push-ups. Keeping up as best he could, Will copied Kate in particular and watched other members of the class to understand the motions. Kate quietly offered corrections if he was making a particularly egregious error, including suggestions to avoid losing his balance by adjusting his stances.

After a—slightly terrifying—warm up, Will sunk gratefully onto the ground and leaned back, pushing his palms into the ground, as he tried to pull air into his lungs. His arms were sore from practicing punches, his shoulders sank heavy where he had worked muscles he had forgotten, and his hips were strained in all different directions.

It was his thighs, however, which were causing him the strain; they felt like they had been run over by a truck after holding his best attempt at a perfectly ninety-degree squat position with his feet turned slightly out for what felt like hours, but was in fact merely minutes.

Kate glanced over her shoulder at Will, as she sat down on the floor and extended her legs out in front of her. He seemed to be struggling to keep up but was definitely trying his best. Grinding the knots in her shoulders, she leaned forward and gently took hold of the middle of each foot, straining gently to stretch out the back of her legs. She twisted her neck from side to side and caught a glimpse of Will's slightly impressed, slightly terrified face as he glanced around the room at his fellow students. Kate smirked slightly and switched to a side split, placing her palms on the ground and lowering her chest down as she stretched forward. She paused to remove her hair tie and shake out her hair then re-tied her ponytail.

"Alright stretching’s over, now we can work out. Ready stance!" the instructor called as he jumped to his feet a few moments later.

"Ready!" the class responded loudly as they stood, stepping their left foot forward and their right back, aligning themselves sideways, hands up and on guard. Will mimicked the position, hoping he was right.

He tried his best to copy the movement the instructor was now teaching. Will swung his left arm around with a lifted fist, stepped out with his left foot and punched with his right hand. After a few practice attempts—during which Will carefully watched Kate and other students—, the group prepared to "count out the exercise" on both the left and right sides.

" Yī," swing, step, punch.

" Èr", swing his left arm and pull it back to 'chamber' tucking it under his armpit, step, and punch with his right arm.

"Sān", swing and punch. Will froze, realizing he had forgotten to step forward.

" Sì." This time Will was able to speak with the class in response to the instructor's count as he repeated the action again, this time feeling as if he was beginning to get the hang of it. He watched Kate and other classmates and felt suddenly disheartened with how different their movements looked to his attempts.

"Wǔ" Re-motivated to try to accomplish the motion with the fluidity and grace that the experienced students did, Will threw his weight and full effort into each part of the sequence. He attempted to ignore the growing sense of frustration he felt with himself by focusing on the improvements he was already making and admitting his own inexperience.

After repeating the sequence five times on the other side, Will felt less confident after managing to get his left and right foot mixed up, despite the instructor's best efforts.

Then, to his horror, he was instructed to pair up with a fellow student to practice the movement. Kate grinned at him and offered to work with him. He nodded, grateful not to be left to find a partner from the group who all seemed to know each other.

Will noticed she was smirking at two of the younger students in the class who had immediately gravitated towards each other and were joking together as they had before class. As she joined the group collecting "punching pads" from a large pile in the corner, she was clearly teasing the two young women.

Will swung his arm around again to relax his shoulder, where it felt excessively tight. Kate handed him a large body pad that she showed him how to hold: snug to his body so the impact of her punches did not cause it to smack him in the stomach. Bending his knees, he braced himself as Kate practiced the movement, "single rafter" she reminded him when he asked, punching into the bag with her whole weight at least a dozen times.

After they switched and Kate braced herself with the bag. Will punched slower than Kate had but she nodded encouragingly, occasionally offering advice on foot placement or aim.

"Try to step closer to me, so you can pivot your hips and use the strength and weight of your whole body to punch." Kate indicated where he should eventually place his foot.

Will nodded and tried again, now ending up much closer to Kate than before. She commented that apparently, that was much better, but he was not sure.

Seemingly almost immediately, the instructor called for the partners to switch and Kate practiced the movement on the other side, punching with her left hand and blocking an imaginary opponent with her right, while he held the body pad.

Handing the pad back to Kate, Will prepared to punch with his left arm, rearranging his feet and adjusting his hip and shoulder alignment. Rapidly, he swung his right arm around and threw his left hand forward into the punch, colliding hard with the pad.

He managed this three further times without significant incident.

"Remember not to punch low, keep your arms directed flat, not down," called the instructor from the other side of the wide room.

Will readjusted his stance and took a deep breath. He stepped forward with his right foot gently and slightly readjusted his balance. He lifted his fist up, placing his arm at a right angle, and swept away his imaginary opponent's block with his forearm. Just as he pulled his fist back to his armpit, he swung his waist to the right, facing Kate straight on, and rapidly threw the punch forward.

Will began to realize as his arm swung forward that the motion did not feel right and as his knuckles made contact, he swore loudly, albeit inadvertently. Desperately he tried to pull his arm back but it was too late; his knuckles had landed with no small amount of force on Kate's cheekbone, even as she leaned away from the incoming fist and began to step back.

The movement around him had stopped suddenly as he had yelled. Stepping back, Will began to apologize profusely. Kate stared at him, frowning slightly and bringing her hand up to her cheek where a red mark had begun to form. As the other students looked on, Kate began to laugh even as she gently prodded at her face.

"If you didn't want to partner with me, I wouldn't have been offended!"

Will continued to apologize but she shushed him and asked him to put the punching pad back. He did so. If he were honest, he would have done anything she asked at that point. Another student—one of the two teenagers Kate had been teasing before—was gently examining Kate's face when he walked back across the room, despite her assertions that she was fine. Other students had begun to practice their Kung Fu individually.

"Looks like that hard head of yours has come in handy today Kate," her friend finally said, stepping away and frowning at Will.

"Oh Kara, where would I be without you?" Kate joked, grinning widely and wandering to where she kept her water bottle and taking a drink.

Will worried that he was about to get punched when the other young woman stepped up to him with a smirk. Instead, she introduced herself again ("Lena, nice to meet you") and congratulated Will on successfully landing a punch on Kate, which apparently was rather difficult.

Will shrugged awkwardly and walked away as Kate's friend Kara elbowed Lena in the ribs and said something Will didn't quite catch.

'Don't worry about it." Will turned quickly, to see Kate stood close behind him waiting for space to practice her forms, which apparently was a series of moves (punches, kicks or blocks) that strengthens and allows students to practice applying abstract techniques to a hypothetical fight. "If you were good at throwing punches, you wouldn't have come to this class."

Will was distracted again by the mark on her cheek but it appeared not to bother Kate now. The feeling of muscle and bone under his knuckles was still there and he could not shake the feelings of guilt that had arisen in his gut.

"And don't worry about Kara and Lena. They're always trying to wind each other up and yes, it probably would be easier if they just went on a date but", she smiled gently and stepped closer, "What can you do."

Will stared blankly at her, but before he could further question her, she stepped across him and started her "form", punching out with her left hand. She was soon moving in patterns that Will did not understand but could not help but be deeply impressed by.

Soon the instructor came over to Will and taught him the start to the first, most basic form. It was the exact movement they had been practicing as a class, first with a right punch, then with a left punch. He practiced it almost a dozen times and almost didn't notice when Sam called the class to attention again.

"Okay, time to bow it out." All the students found an individual space on the floor, stretching gently and then standing to attention. Sam listed off several upcoming events while Will slowed his breathing and began to relax.

"And a round of applause to Will for his first class!" Will smiled awkwardly as his fellow classmates clapped and clasped his hands in front of him more firmly. "It's always tough to come in here when everyone else seems to know what they're doing and give it a go. Hopefully, we haven't scared you away."

Will laughed but looked over at Kate, where the red mark did seem to be fading. She noticed him looking and smiled, shaking her head slightly.

The instructor stood at attention again and grinned widely at the class. "May you use your goodness and your strength to make yourselves and the world better." Sam bowed, with his left hand over his right fist in front of him.

"May you, Sihing," chorused the class as they bowed. Then, the students all high-fived one another and congratulated each other on the class. Will walked back to the cloakroom, changing his trainers for his converse.

"See you next week?" Kate asked as she pulled her keys out of her bag.

"I think so," Will replied as he pulled his jacket on. "If I'm allowed, after punching you in the face."

Kate stopped and looked at him seriously. "Don't worry about it. Truly, I've already forgiven you for it."

Will nodded and they smiled at each other. The quiet moment of forgiveness was interrupted by a yell from the floor.

"For the love of all that is holy, ask her out already Kara!"

* * *

True to his word, Will had returned to the classes each week and, true to hers, Kate had forgiven him entirely for the accidental hand-face collision. Will had seen rapid improvements in himself over the last two months; both in terms of knowing what he was doing and correctly doing what he was supposed to be.

Between the instructor, Sam, and senior students, particularly Kate and her friends, Lena and Kara, he felt he had really begun to get to grips with the basics of the Kung Fu style. In fact, every one of his fellow students had helped him at some point over the last nine weeks. That sense of community had surprised him; if he were honest, he had been expecting a more "get in, do the class, get out" attitude, and not the supportive, friendly school he had found instead.

Will was friendly with all his fellow students, from the retired accountant to the stay-at-home dad of three small children, who enjoyed his "away time" as he called it, to the excited, potentially over-energetic middle schoolers, and the other fifteen or so students.

Nonetheless, it was Kate that he knew best. The two of them often joked around before and during class and Will often allowed himself to be drawn into a push-up or sit-up competition with both of them watching the other surreptitiously, but not calling it a competition outright.

He was fully aware of the comparisons others drew between himself and Kara: they were both hopelessly wrapped around Kate and Lena's little fingers, even though apparently neither of the women knew it. Will held himself in slightly higher esteem than Kara, as at least he was aware that he was useless if Kate so much as smiled at him too frequently. Kara, on the other hand, was apparently unaware of how her clumsiness and inability to focus for long periods were severely worsened by Lena's mere presence.

Will had tried, seriously tried, not to freak Kate out by staring or flirting during exercise, because he had zero desire to be that creep. He was fairly confident that he was not as obvious as Kara, however, the more he got to know Kate, the more he was falling for her.

It probably said a great deal about his psyche that Kate's fighting prowess, while slightly unnerving, was still attractive even when she was smacking the side of his head when sparring or kicking him hard in the gut, prevented only by the body pads they had used during that ill-fated "single rafter" exercise during his very first class.

It was during a "form" demonstration with Kate and other advanced students showing off their most complex forms that Will again realized just how freakin' awesome Kate was and how lucky he was to have her as a classmate and a friend, and why he was falling more deeply for her every class, to say nothing of the causal get-togethers of students, whether potlucks or "Martial Arts Movie Nights", hosted at the school.

* * *

 

It had now been four months or approximately thirty-five classes since Will had started at the Kung Fu school. Lena and Kara were still dancing around each other and gazing somewhat longingly when the other was not watching. Will was improving by the week and felt vastly more confident compared to the even-more-newbies who had joined the school since he had. His "crush"—childish as such a description is, it was surprisingly accurate—on Kate had failed to abate and had instead deepened, much to his dismay.

The strengthening of his feelings was at least in part was due to the increasingly frequent socializing he did with Kate outside of Kung Fu. It was no longer uncommon for Will and several others to get coffee together after Saturday morning classes and they had even gone for a drink on a couple of Friday nights, to celebrate a few birthdays. It was strange to consider but he now considered several of his classmates, particularly Kate, strong friends.

His strongest reactions to falling further for Kate had been dismay, given the lack of reciprocation and how awkward his feelings could cause classes together. Dismay that was, until a supposedly normal Saturday morning class. The classes that morning had consisted of a regular training class followed by a sparring class, where Lena and Kara had once again been paired together and once again spent their sparring giggling and teasing between landing blows.

After the class had finished, Will walked slowly towards the cloakroom and had started to rub out the knot that had formed in his left shoulder.

It was as he was slowly pulling his sweater and coat on after changing his "Kung Fu trousers" for jeans that Kate quietly interrupted his thoughts.

"Hey Will?" She was close to him now and blushing slightly even as she smiled.

"Yeah, Kate?" He smiled back, pausing with his coat half on. He realized a moment later that he needed to finish putting his coat on.

"Do you want to go for coffee with me?" Again Kate was blushing and she kept glancing away but her gaze always returned to his face.

Will nodded, smiling as he always did at the chance to hang out with Kate but his predictable answer had an unforeseeable response. "Sure, who else is coming?"

Kate glanced away then and opened her mouth as if to speak before closing it again. Finally, after what had felt to Will like hours but could only have been a matter of seconds, she looked back at his face and smiled slightly at whatever she saw there.

"Just me." Kate paused again. "I mean, just coffee with me, just me," she said again, her expression shifting slightly as she raised her eyebrows slightly and the corners of her mouth turned down.

Will's felt his face split into a grin and he nodded quickly. "I would love to."

The pair walked out of the studio still smiling and laughing, completely unaware of the gossiping and chuckling behind them.

Will endured a great deal of teasing over the next months, mainly on the basis that Kate had finally taken pity on his desperate lovesick gazes. Will maintained, however, that even if he had been unable to pluck up the courage to ask Kate out, they were still doing better than Lena and Kara. Those two were at the same high school, even taking some classes together, and were still doing nothing more than giggling and blushing at each other, while Will and Kate were now snogging not infrequently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is based on my own experiences of learning Kung Fu. I do not expect that other people have had the same experiences and reiterate that this was based on mine, and mine alone.


	5. Perhaps I don't want to be there

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kate does not love her job. She likes having money to survive but really her waitressing job is only survivable because of the nice people among her co-workers. Serving a huge party in the last hours before she goes home and collapses into bed is her idea of hell, but here goes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Restaurant AU

"Good evening my name is-"

"Two diet cokes, please. And bread for the table." The man interrupted her, still staring intently at his menu. Kate held her smile tightly and her resentment close.

"Coming right up." With that, she walked to the servers' station and handed over the drinks order. Sighing, she rested momentarily on the bar stool and rubbed the cramp that had formed in the arch of her foot, thanks to her heels.

Kate reached back to grab a sip of water and look over at her other table currently that evening, which was a much nicer couple. They were holding hands beneath the table and blushing alternately, which admittedly made them less than responsive when she asked their order. On the other hand, at least they were polite which was more than could be said for many patrons on weekday post-rush evenings like now. Her co-worker Miyo nudged her, breaking her out of her slightly-zoned-out state, and pointed to a large group who had just entered, "God help whoever has to deal with them."

Kate gave an exaggerated shudder, causing Miyo to laugh quietly, stifling it quickly with the palm of her hand. While serving any group that large, there were at least a dozen people, would induce a shudder in any server, serving them now with only a few hours left in their shifts would be worse. Indeed, Kate felt her stomach drop as the group, all laughing and joking, made their way towards her section. There John, the host and until that moment a man she considered her friend, started to move tables to create one large enough.

Kate restored her waitress smile and walked over. With John's help, they easily placed together enough seats for the group. As they sat, the group quieted and turned to look at her.

"Hi my name is Kate and I'll be your server tonight. Can I get you started with some drinks?"

As the group listed off drink orders, Kate considered the individuals sat around the table. There were eleven, six men and five women, who ordered a mix of alcoholic and non-alcoholic drinks, and appeared to be in their mid- to late-twenties. Most were polite, even if one or two had to be nudged to pay attention when it came time to order, distracted by their phones.

The restaurant had continued to fill and turnover here was quite high so Kate spent most of her time checking in with her various tables and serving each of the new customers. The large group spent longer at their table than others, but Kate had little time to check in with them, beyond serving their meals and taking the oft-demanded group photo.

They had been, unlike some, very nice about it.

"Kate, is it?", one of the young men had asked politely. She had nodded, distracted by the water she was pouring. "Could we trouble you to take our picture?" He had held out his phone towards her, but had not, unlike some diners, simply placed it into her hand without asking.

Kate had smiled, setting the jug down gently. But before she could accept, a voice from across the table interrupted.

"Robert, I'm sure she has better things to do than take our picture." Looking up Kate saw another man, blonde and tall, or at least appeared to be, frowning at his friend.

"There's no harm in asking Will." The young woman next to him had reminded him, rolling her eyes.

She had reassured them both, taking the phone and having them all pose, squeezing into the edges of the frame. Reclaiming her jug, she had returned to her tasks, delivering drinks and orders to her tables.

However, while Kate accepted that the group appeared to be catching up after some time apart, if the "so, how are you?" and "what I have missed?" were anything to go by, the group had been sat there, taking a rather large number of seats, for quite some time.

Eventually, they had asked for the check and she had delivered it to them, hoping quietly that they would lean towards the 20% calculated tip, which would be at least forty dollars.

Handing the bill to the tall blond man, who had reached for as she approached, Kate walked away, hoping they wouldn't be splitting it across 11 credit cards.

Returning, a few moments later, she was delighted to find the holder holding only one card and an assortment of cash. She paid it in and returned the card and receipt to the group, wishing them a good evening.

As she returned to clear the dirty glasses and tidy the table, Kate saw the tip was tucked under a used beer glass. Unraveling it, she felt a sudden need to sit down but resisted it: it wasn't as if she had won the lottery. She counted quickly, a skill she had developed as a waitress. There had to be at least sixty dollars here, if not nearly seventy, which was rather more than she was expecting and certainly enough to make up for the length of time they had spent at the table.

Kate continued to tidy and shift the tables back to their original positions, although it was getting late and Kate didn't expect there to be any more customers tonight given how close they were to closing. Checking her watch, she confirmed there was only fifteen minutes till closing and placed the final chair under the table. Noticing it on the floor, she picked up a wallet from the floor, turning it into the hostess stand as she returned the dirty glasses to the bar.

She had been closing the front doors, while Miyo, John, and Annalee swept the floors and washed the tables--it was a small establishment, but at least she could keep the portion of her tips she didn't share with Annalee and the chefs--when the man had run towards her, gesticulating wildly with his arms.

Opening the door, Kate had stared in surprise as the man began to thank her profusely. She recognized him as the blond man from the large party when he asked if she had found a wallet. Retrieving it from the hostess station, she had given it to him and he had received it gladly--with yet more thanks.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you." His eyes shining, with relief and perhaps un-cried tears, he placed his wallet firmly into his pocket, checking a few times to confirm he had it.

Kate smiled at him. "Thank you for the tip." He had smiled back, pausing for a moment as if about to say something, holding eye contact, but then he turned away and headed quickly to his car, tapping his back pocket again as he walked. Kate watched him go and wondered if she would see him again.

Kate shook her head and returned to her tasks, before finally locking the door behind her and her co-workers and walking to her car.

Over the next few months, the tall blond man returned several times, each time with a seemingly different group, although Kate began to recognize a few of them.

Each time, they were polite and tipped generously, more than enough to make up for the extended length of their conversations.

Will, as she learned his name was, became a regular and John began to make a special effort to place his group in Kate's section, even when they did not necessarily need to be.

Eventually, he had left her tip with his business card "Will Pinkerton, PI", including his cell phone number and a "text me" accompanied by a smiley face.

Turning it over, she saw a note scrawled in the same confident, messy handwriting. "If you are not interested, that's fine and we'll say this never happened." Kate relaxed a little inside and released a breath she hadn't been aware she was holding.

Pocketing the tip, she turned the card over a few times in her hands, before sliding it into her jeans pocket. When her shift was over, mid-afternoon for once instead of almost midnight by virtue of a switch with Miyo, she sat in her car and stared at the card.

Finally, she pulled out her cell and texted out a quick message.

Her nervousness was significantly lessened by the response: "Oh thank god, you didn't think I was a total creep" complete with a laughing emoji.

That was quickly followed by a second message, "But hi Kate, how are you doing today?", again followed by an emoji, this time winking.

Laughing, she put her phone away and pulled out of her parking space and headed home.


	6. Perhaps we meet through friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will is not just the designated driver, he needs to ensure that his perhaps excessively drunk friends actually make it to his car without injuring themselves or others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Officer, officer, look. My friends just got a bit out of hand, okay? They’re not over the top or anything, I promise you. I’m sober, you’re sober - yeah, they aren’t, but at least they aren’t driving, right?” AU
> 
>  
> 
> Drink responsibly, please. And don't hit on people who are working, thanks.

“Kenji, what the hell are you doing?” Will tilted his head slightly to the side and stared at his friend as he stumbled down the sidewalk. John was handling himself far better but kept occasionally breaking down into hysterical giggles, bent over double, hands on his knees in the middle of the sidewalk.

Will rolled his eyes and grabbed Kenji’s arm. Throwing it around his own shoulders, Will grabbed Kenji’s opposite shoulder.

“Yeah, let’s stay upright till we get to the car okay?”

However, as soon as Kenji was under control, John began another fit of giggles and sat down on the sidewalk.  Will sighed and pushed Kenji towards where John was sat chuckling to himself.

Upon seeing how much fun John appeared to be having, Kenji decided he wanted to sit down too and tried to light himself a cigarette while the contagious laughter reached him.

Will watched Kenji singe his fingers without acting but pocketed the lighter when it was dropped on the floor.

It was then that John lay back, narrowly avoiding a sharp piece of broken glass with his head and began to giggle at the stars. Kenji, having failed to light the cigarette, placed it between his lips and tried to smoke it regardless.

Just as Will had resigned himself to slow but ultimately uneventful journey towards his car, Kenji and John spotted a second bar to go into.

In hindsight, Will believes it was the bright flashing lights rather than the bar itself that attracted the pair who had both suffered when one had challenged the other to chug a rather large number of beers and been challenged to complete it himself.

The flashy lights so intrigued the pair that rather than going towards the doors as Will had expected them to, they headed straight for the floor-to-ceiling windows of the front of the club.

Personally, Will didn’t see the appeal of the windows: they had steamed up and were extremely gross. He’d personally rather be back at the DuBois bar where there wasn’t sweat rolling down the walls.

Still, Will had strolled towards the front entrance. His friends, however, were deeply transfixed by the flashing lights and walked directly towards them.

Directly _into_ them in fact.

They smacked into the glass one after another as Will was distracted by the flirtatious smile of the woman at the end of the queue.

John made his way down to the floor and lay down on the sidewalk giggling loudly, while Kenji swore incoherently at the window.

It was then the police foot patrol turned the corner.

They hurried towards the group as Will had Kenji sit down and pulled John up into a sitting position.

“Hi, I’m Officer Warne and this is Sergeant Lawrence. Are your friends okay?” The shorter of the two officers, who Will now realized was a young woman, frowned at him in concern.

John began to laugh hysterically again and Kenji slumped his head into his hands and muttered darkly.

“They tried to break into the bar, through the window!” shouted someone standing in the line followed by murmurs of agreement.

The two officers looked from John and Kenji back to Will.

The younger officer began to talk again, “They tried to smash the window? If that’s true, we would have to investigate.”

Will stood quickly, nervous for his friends, and tried to explain.

“Officer, officer, look. My friends just got a bit out of hand, okay? They’re not over the top or anything, I promise you. I’m sober, you’re sober – I mean, yeah, they aren’t, but at least they aren’t driving, right?”

The officers frowned at each other, and the woman’s partner butted in.

“Can I confirm, they’re not driving today?”

Will shook his head. “No, I’m designated driver and apparently designated stop-them-running-into-windows friend.”

The older police officer rolled his eyes. “You clearly didn’t do a very good job at that.”

His partner elbowed him in the side, “Looks like he tried, Lawrence. Take your friends home now and we’ll let it go.”

Will thanked them both and dragged John off the floor. With great difficulty, he eventually got his friends into his car and back to their homes.

* * *

 

The next time he was out with his friends, he was proud to say that they did not have to drag him home. He was sober enough, not to drive, but to walk himself unsupported to the car when necessary.

It was as he sat in the bar, savoring his whiskey and watching Kenji fail to flirt, he heard Annalee, a fixture of a bartender who rumors held was the real owner of the bar, yell his name from behind the bar.

“Will! Wasn’t it your dumb ass that let your friends walk into windows?”

Will frowned at her but, glancing to confirm Kenji was being guided by John, got up from his table and sat down on a barstool, smiling slightly and shaking his head.

“Well, I’d argue that they walked themselves into the window, Annalee.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Irrelevant. Will meet Kate-” she indicated the young woman sat at the bar next to him, “-Kate meet Will. Will, Kate nearly arrested your friends for breaking and entering. Kate, Will nearly let his friends drunkenly break and enter. Talk.”

Will smiled at the admittedly pretty woman he’d just been introduced to. She smiled back awkwardly, but clearly used to Annalee’s brash nature.

Flashing them both a smile, Annalee stepped away to serve other customers, but not before thumping a replacement beer down in front of Will.

The two looked at each other, both struggling to find anything to say. Will noticed the glint of light on the many different bottles behind the bar and Kate played, seemingly unconsciously, with the straw in her drink. 

Finally, Will forced himself to start the conversation, if only for fear of Annalee's certain wrath, should she discover their failure to obey, given her view of herself as something of a matchmaker, both platonic and romantic.

“So you’re a cop?”

She nodded and sipped her drink. “Yeah, signed up a few years back. That was definitely the first incident I’ve had of someone accidentally trying to break through a window though.” Kate raised her eyebrows, seemingly pushing for an explanation.

Will laughed but chose not to disclose any more than he had previously. An awkward pause then fell over the conversation and Will tapped his beer on the top of the bar uneasily. Kate stared at the wall in front of her, occasionally glancing sideways towards Will.

The pause lasted long enough to end the conversation and Will made a quiet excuse to escape back to his friends’ table.

Still, the DuBois was a regular haunt for him and his friends, and apparently for both on-and off-duty Kate so he kept being forced to gracelessly interact with her, often at Annalee’s behest.

Still, gradually, it became more comfortable and eventually Will offered to actually buy her a drink on an off-duty night and she accepted, with a teasing roll of her eyes.

One drink turned into three, and one night turned into five and suddenly Kate was a--very welcome--fixture in his life.

Strange beginning but somehow it worked for them.

And anyway, it made a great story to tell their friends and family when they asked.


	7. Perhaps I'm fighting for something and you're my ally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kate Warne is passionate about this campaign, about getting John Bell elected to the U.S. House of Representatives for Missouri's 5th District, about everything this election stands for.  
> Will Pinkerton doesn't seem to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Political campaign AU

Kate was going to get John Bell elected to the U.S. House of Representatives if it killed her. A statement, which was terrifyingly likely in that the possibility even existed, she reflected as she considered the videos of recent violence at political rallies playing on the TV screen, interspersed with clips from actual Neo-Nazi gatherings that had recently been held.

Still, she thought standing up straight and pulling her shoulders back, there was a damn good reason she was here in Kansas City and she was going to do everything in her power to get him elected, even if the national committee thought the race was unwinnable and were focusing only minimal attention and resources on them. Today, John was spending the day out in the communities in the eastern half of the district, an area that so frequently felt ignored in elections. Checking Twitter, she smiled to see a number of selfies from both John and the local volunteers with eager-looking voters they had met so far.

Turning back around to the room, she saw Alan Pinkerton, CEO of Pinkerton Strategy, the small, political consulting group they had hired a month or so ago for its local knowledge and national expertise, accompanied by who, Kate assumed, was his son.

Crossing the room quickly, Kate smoothed her skirt and reached out to shake their hands. "Alan, how are you? And you must be Will. Nice to meet you."

Alan introduced her to Will, who smiled and shook her hand.

"So," Kate began almost immediately, "Y'all are both here to help us win?"

Alan laughed, Kate having said the exact same phrase to him when he first visited the office six weeks ago, but Kate noticed a slight twitch in Will's face, almost as if he was resisting the urge to roll his eyes. She continued regardless, jumping from mailing plans and refreshing campaign literature to social media advertisements and strategies for the volunteers to use with personal posts as she led them both to her small office in the back. 

Well, technically it was her desk but the small, rather cramped office was actually shared between herself--the field director--, the political director and the campaign manager, to say nothing of John's "body-woman" Miyo, who was basically his personal right-hand woman whenever needed. 

She sat in her desk chair indicating they each take a seat.

Taking out a notebook, Kae took frantic notes as Alan laid out his suggestions for the campaign. That was another reason this was the firm they had chosen, Alan chose to suggest and aid rather than demand to run the campaign, knowing as he did that the local volunteers would always have a better grasp of local issues and voters than he as an outsider. Indeed, Kate occasionally interrupted with comments or questions and Alan would build upon them, reassure her, or if necessary change the suggestion entirely.

Finally, Alan drew to a close, and Kate smiled widely as she quickly scanned over her notes to see if there was anything she had questions on or needed to clarify.

"Well, Alan, it was great to see you again in person, and really get into some of these topics. This is all incredibly helpful and I can't wait to pass this on to Annalee, our political director, and Lawrence of course."

Alan stood, picking up his briefcase, Kate glancing at her wrist to realise two hours had passed and she urgently needed to update Lawrence, who had been called away to meet with the state police union, given his personal connection, on the meeting and check in with her field organisers.

Realising, the Pinkertons were waiting for her to reply, she smiled brightly, standing and adjusting her sleeves. "And I am so excited, as we all are, to have you on board our campaign. 

Alan shook her hand and wished her the best of luck. "We are honoured to be working with your campaign and you tell John Bell he's a brave man from me. Now I must leave to catch my train; I have a meeting with a friend from the DNC in Jefferson City later today, and then I will be returning to Chicago. So I leave you in Will's capable hands."

At that particular compliment, Kate looked Will up and down. He appeared, frankly, bored and his shirt and slacks bordered on sloppy. Capable was the last word she would use to describe him at his particular moment if she were honest. 

* * *

It took a few weeks, months in campaign time, for Kate to warm up to Will. She still didn't fully trust him personally, but she trusts Alan, had advocated hiring his firm given her experience with him and his firm when she had worked on campaigns in Illinois, so she gives him full access to the campaign and its staffers, regardless.

Will is a brilliant political strategist she realised slowly. He may appear that he isn't paying attention but nine times out of ten he's simply absorbing, letting everyone finish talking before tying what they've all said together into one coherent strategy, with a few suggestions of his own added. The tenth time, he actually isn't paying attention. His position as an outsider grants him perspective, allows him to catch small details in polling data or collated comments that the rest of them miss, exhausted and blinded by familiarity. 

But still, Kate feels sure that his heart simply isn't in it. Unlike Lawrence, whose calm demeanour hides an intensity of passion for the cause, unlike Annalee who at her most frustrated had been known to stay up all night refining strategies, sending emails and generally working herself far too hard and unlike Miyo who Kate finds asleep at her (Kate's) desk more than once, having stayed up late driving back from debates or town halls before going canvassing with John at commuter stations far too early.

It all comes to a head one day when a volunteer comes back to the office in a flood of tears after being cursed out by a supporter of their opponent whom she had mistakenly approached to ask for their support.

Will, sitting at her desk Kate noticed with a silent flash of anger, had rolled his eyes when Kate had walked into the back office after she'd finally calmed the poor girl down and sent her home with a promise to take a few days before coming back to the campaign.

"It's only politics, is she really that upset?"

Kate stared at him, simply gobsmacked.

"It's only politics?", she questioned aloud, suddenly grateful most of the volunteers had already gone home and weren't about to hear their field director ~~curse out~~ call out their lead political consultant.

"That poor girl, she's only 16 goddammit, was just called a baby killer, by a grown man because he didn't like our candidate's stance on a woman's right to choose what she does with her own body. That girl is out there whenever she can be when she's not doing her homework because she's still in high school, for goodness' sake, so she certainly shouldn't be insulted by someone like you who just plays statistics and buzzwords." Kate is still seething, so seeing Will stand up form her chair and open his mouth suddenly sets her off again.

"That girl is knocking on doors and making calls hoping that the voters of this district will see that she and they have the right to safe contraception, and other reliable health care, water that's safe to drink and air that's safe to breathe, and to be as safe as white people walking down the street. It's not only politics when it comes to criminal justice reform, universal gun purchase background checks or corruption at the highest levels of government, it's people's lives. And if you can't see that, I'd suggest you get back on that plane to Chicago because that's what we're fighting for in this district."

Suddenly Kate felt as if she'd run out of things to say and air to say them with, and slumped a little, still glaring at Will.

He sighed and shook his head. Raising his hands, he tried to laugh it off, "This is why you're behind in the polls, you all need to calm down and relax a bit."

Kate felt hot angry tears prick at her eyes, likely inspired by the sleep deprivation rather than an intensity of emotion. It was frustrating and embarrassing regardless so she stormed past him out of the office, noticing the irony as the door to her office slammed behind her.

She stands in the middle of an empty office, suddenly realising that today is the major town hall event they've been preparing for over two weeks, in order to get their supporters there, to encourage undecided voters to attend and to ensure local press coverage. Sighing, she pinched the bridge of her nose hard and wiped her eyes with a tissue. With a quick shake of her head, she walked back into the office and stood in the doorway. 

Will was standing, leaning against one of the few empty spaces on the walls and frowning at his phone.

"The town hall starts in an hour," Kate began bluntly, "I'm driving over there now. I'll give you a ride and you can see what John's fighting for."

The drive was silent, Will checking his phone frequently and Kate focused on resisting the urge to buy him the damn plane ticket home herself because she's broke and he's actually helpful most of the time. 

* * *

The town hall goes wonderfully, and that says a lot given it comes from someone as cautious as Kate. John is flawless, passionate about the issues, keen to learn whenever voters want to educate him, personable and sympathetic to the too many voters who are suffering, and unyielding when questioning on the issues that really truly matter.

He talks about criminal justice reform so clearly that Kate sees many who were frowning when the question was posed nodding along by the end; it makes sense when John quotes statistics about racial disparity when he explains how this isn't the Missouri, or the America, he thinks it can be. John opens up about growing up poor, relying on foster families, living rough for while, making mistakes and building himself up into the successful businessman he is today. Kate sees at least one woman dabbing her eyes with a tissue and resists the utterly inappropriate desire to fist pump the air. The adrenaline in the air builds and builds and at the very end, when they've overrun by at least an hour, maybe more, and John asks them if they are ready to join the team, so many of them look genuinely excited that Kate thinks she might cry. 

* * *

The work continues, but the town hall has inspired volunteers from across the district. There's a gif of John calmly and kindly explaining to a woman that her ACA health plan is, in fact, Obamacare that goes viral on local Twitter to Lawrence's horror but he is soon reassured by the clip of John asking for better.

Watching it live, it had reignited Kate's belief in John, that he could really do this. Win an election that had been held by the previous incumbent for over a decade with a fresh face, hell, an African-American face, without yielding any of his firmly held principles.

The young woman in the audience had asked, quietly, a little unsure, what John would say to people who had voted for the president. John had paused for only half a second.

"I would ask them why. And I would really listen. And then I would try and answer. I would talk about our jobs plan, about clean energy, federal investment, integration of industry and service across the district, better access to community college and technical education. And if that wasn't enough, if it wasn't about jobs for them, if it was about a woman's right to control her own body, the right to equal marriage, about the cultural and ethnic diversity of this country, then I would have to listen and explain how I've arrived at a completely different set of views."

John had paused then, looking out across the room and, Kate thought, had caught her eye and smiled slightly.

"And maybe that wouldn't be enough. And I have to accept that because we have freedom of speech and freedom of thought here, but that doesn't mean I want to stop there. "

Suddenly rushing forward absorbed in what he was saying John continued quickly. "Freedom of speech need not be freedom to hate, so it doesn't mean I can't ask for better. It doesn't mean I can't demand better from myself, from all of us, to make this a more accepting, more united country, without ever compromising those values most important to us."

Some members of the audience had shaken their heads, a few had even left, but that was the moment that made the campaign. It wasn't the moment they had figured out their exact policies on infrastructure or healthcare, even though that was an important moment. It wasn't even the moment the first volunteer or the first paid staffer came on board. It wasn't even the moment two weeks earlier when they had secured their place on the primary ballot. It was that moment in the hired high school auditorium when John laid out the philosophy of his candidacy, of what this campaign could really mean, and so many people listened. 

* * *

From there the campaign gained momentum until even Annalee described herself as cautiously optimistic. Will continued to be helpful and if Kate didn't know better she would say he was starting to care. He helps make phone calls during a Weekend of Action and spends five minutes discussing criminal justice reform, particularly mandatory minimus, with someone who doesn't sound convinced, before doing a coffee run and bringing back doughnuts as a gift.

His contributions to strategy meetings became deeper somehow like he was not just responding to statistics and polling or demographics and buzzwords but as if he was really beginning to understand what could hinge on this campaign and what this election could mean. 

It was a Friday evening, a house party recruiting potential volunteers went great and Kate decided to throw caution to the wind and invites their teenage volunteers out for celebratory ice cream. Will was at the house party for reasons she can't remember at the time, too sleep deprived and excited by the small possibility of success that seems to be growing larger.

Will offered to help drive when more kids jump at the opportunity than Kate was expecting. They pile into the two cars and Kate laughed her way through the conversation the kids have, complaining about homework, the ridiculous things said by voters, and Will to Kate's great amusement. 

Kate was prepared to pay for all the ice cream, she had offered after all, but, seemingly unthinkingly, Will stepped up next to her at the counter and out down enough cash to pay for half. The teenagers thanked them both and they all sat, eight of them including Kate and Will, round a large table in the centre of the store.

Kate and Will listened to the melodramatic discussion of the kids, most of whom were from the same high school and had clearly stopped recognising either of them as adults, given the dramatics of the conversation they were hearing.

"So Kate", one of the kids began, smiling in a manner that was somehow reminiscent of a circling shark, "We know you moved here after college to work on a political campaign and you never left, but what do you do when you're not working on the campaign?"

Kate laughed. "I sleep. I binge-watch something on Netflix that has nothing to do with politics."

The girl rolled her eyes. Jane was a smart girl, a senior in high school, had a future in politics if she wanted one, partly because she was actually capable of saying no when asked to do something she had no time to do. 

"Don't you have a life outside the campaign?"

Gathering up empty ice cream pots, Kate shook her head smiling. "I'm working on the campaign or sleeping. Don't go into politics, kids."

Will chuckled and Kate frowned at him.

"What's so funny, Pinkerton?" she questioned immediately.

He smirked at her, taking another spoon of ice cream. "You've got no time in your life because you're so invested in grassroots. Join me, sell out to consultancy and actually have time to do stuff you enjoy, with people you actually like."

The kids all laughed and Jane elbowed her friend, giggling to each other suddenly, and Kate stood to put the cups in the trash, laughing slightly to herself. The conversation continued, light and virtually meaningless, with a few jabs at their opponents thrown about, which Kate glared at, hiding her smirk. They were all joking, discussing politics and campaigns in hypothetical terms, and continuing to pick Kate's brains about potential futures in politics. Will was deeply involved in the conversation, showing his political knowledge and a willingness to joke, even when the kids started gently mocking his Chicago accent.

Kate saw a different side to Will over the next hour compared to the insensitive political consultant or even the hard-working adviser. Someone who could laugh at himself, who was able to articulate many aspects of the campaign that Kate couldn't quite describe, while Kate finally saw a glimpse of why Will did what he did when he described the power of statistics and what can be done with the right precision, to help get people on board an important campaign like this one. 

It was an hour later after all the kids got picked up by their parents and the pair of them were walking back to their cars when Kate's phone began to buzz repeatedly.

Pulling it from her pocket she answered, smiling still at some quip Will had made about the district-wide mailing campaign of their opponent.

"Annalee?"

"Kate, someone's attacked the Kansas City office. No one's hurt but there's some graffiti and Lawrence is talking about there being a fire and the front windows have been smashed. Kate, I'm so glad you're okay." Kate was stood frozen but managed to get out a response that she was fine, and she was glad everyone was okay.

Annalee promised to let Kate know if she heard anything and that Albert, the office manager, was already on top of finding them a new space to work out of, "just temporarily until the investigation's complete and the window's replaced".

Kate nodded, before realising that obviously Annalee couldn't see her and responded verbally. Annalee wished her well and hung up. Kate stood staring at her phone for a moment before a cough brought her attention back to her surroundings. She looked up to see Will frowning at her, concern writ large across his face. 

Recognising that Will wasn't going to ask if she didn't volunteer it, Kate began, voice unwavering to her surprise. "There's been an incident, someone's smashed the windows at the office, written some probably deeply offensive graffiti and maybe set a fire? Annalee didn't give a lot of details, but everyone's okay I believe."

Will stared at her, blank-faced. "Wow. Is there anything I can do to help?"

Kate smiled at him despite herself. "I don't think so, Albert is in charge of finding another office and right now, all I need is a drink. It's been a hell of a week."

"I'll take you." Will immediately hesitates and starts to backtrack, "I mean, I'll go with you if you don't want to drink alone, I never do."

Despite the dramatics of the day, Kate was still smiling, which she didn't want to examine too deeply at this time of night or this stage of the campaign, but it was enough to have her agree to one drink.

That was all it was that day, one drink. But Will's newfound devotion to the campaign didn't go anywhere and while Kate was slowly losing her sanity and her sleep to the campaign, he stood out in focus, like Annalee in their shared supporter housing, like John's speech about violence and the subsequent standing ovation, like Lawrence gathering them all together to thank them all for their work, even tearing up as he spoke, not that Kate would believe it if someone had told her.

So when they win, because Kate is a damn good field organiser working in what is arguably one of the best political teams assembled in Missouri's 5th District, if not for prestige, for skill and results, Will is one of the people she celebrated with.

Not the immediate celebration, that's victory speeches, champagne toasts, skillfully ducking reporters and directing them to press.

But the later celebrations, drinking at the office and hugging her volunteers, and wishing them well on their next campaigns or whatever they are doing next. When the senior staff went out to a bar, to drink the money they have saved by doing nothing but the campaign for months, Will was there, bought a fair number of rounds. The day Kate had as many volunteers as she can come into the office where she surprises them with ice cream to thank them, Will helped her lug the heavy cooler bags in from her car and stock buckets with ice.

But other than the celebrations, the time after the campaign was special. It was sleeping for hours the next day and waking up to a world in John Bell is preparing to be the next Congressman for Missouri's 5th District. A world where, sure, their allies, the ones they were really rooting for, didn't sweep the House or the Senate but they made gains and John is not alone as a progressive face in the new crop of legislators.

It's also a world in which negotiations started on who is taking what positions in the Congressman's office.

Unlike Annalee who had already ruled herself out of the running and was searching for another campaign position, which, if Lawrence was to be believed (which he almost always was), was already causing disagreements between campaigns for the next year, Kate was aiming for a place in the congressman's home office. She had considered taking a few months off and joining another campaign in the spring but her commitment to John's campaign, his initiatives, was stronger than any of her previous candidates. It was enough that she was willing to give up the adrenaline of the field to help him achieve what she knew he could if he would have her.

She was virtually guaranteed such a position, John had previously hinted, unless she committed a felony or changed her political registration.  So when she was asked to meet John in the now-repaired office, she was pretty sure she was being offered deputy district director and she was fairly certain she was going to say yes.

Subsequently, when John and Lawrence offered her the position of the chief district director, she was taken aback. She said yes after only a moment's hesitation. Kate wanted to help John work for better in any way and she knew her own capabilities and what she would be able to, with her local contacts and as Lawrence himself said "her devotion to the principles they were fighting for."

After shaking hands and being told who to talk to about contracts and pay and the rest, Kate walked out into the main office feeling slightly dazed.

Will was stood there, smirking, as Kate shook her head and poured herself a cup of coffee. A cup of coffee that was almost immediately set aside as she was embraced by some of her volunteers and told with great gusto of their future plans. When the three girls left, Kate turned back to see Will, holding her cup, which had had milk added and a doughnut balanced on top.

"Here." Will handed the two to her with a smile. "So, job offer?"

Kate nodded and took a bite of the doughnut. "Working here, director of the office."

"Of course, that's a great fit for you, you'll be a huge bonus to the district."

Kate nodded again, still smiling at Will. 

The two of them stood there, smiling at each other, for a moment, before the sudden appearance of John's husband Aldred created a sudden rush of people outside to meet him as John stepped out to greet him.

Neither Kate nor Will followed. 

"So Will", Kate began, "What are you going to be doing next month?"

"Looks like I'm going to be to be sticking around in Missouri too. Something about this being a regional base and future political shifts in this area."

Kate was still smiling when she made a comment about being stuck with him for much longer than was fair. She walked across the room to throw away her coffee cup and when she came back Will was frowning slightly at her, but also as if it wasn't quite _at_ her.

Kate stood in front of him and sighed. 

"Will, can I ask you something?"

He raised his eyebrows and bit his lip, but nodded slowly.

"Do you want to come for drinks with me tonight? As a date?"

Will stared at her, frowning again.

Kate felt all of her hard-won confidence flee away from her, stomach dropping and folding in.

"Yes, Kate, I'd like that."

The pair smiled at each other again, quiet and anticipatory, until Kate broke it suddenly. 

"I have to go, I have some stuff to do for the district office, for the new contract and everything. I'll see you tonight?"

"Yeah, tonight."

But while the two of them made plans to meet at the bar near Will's hotel at 8 pm, they happened to be leaving the office together a few hours before, although Will had a conference call with his father and other members of the firm between then and their date.

So it was there, in the parking lot as they prepared to get in their cars to drive away that Kate leaned in and kissed him for the first time. 

A chief district director and a political consultant dating skates a number of ethical lines but something about Pinkerton Consulting and the Committee to Elect John Bell to Congress signing their first agreement without either of their names being involved makes it somewhat better, legally.

And the two of them, being the two of them and never insulting the other's intelligence or abilities by unfairly helping them or failing to acknowledge the truth makes it better for their bosses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Facts vs. Fiction:  
> The Missouri 5th Congressional District is the real district for Kansas City, MO.  
> It has been represented by Emanuel Cleaver, chair of the Congressional Black Caucus, since 2004.  
> Missouri has never elected an African-American to the US Senate and has elected only 4 Black US Representatives, including Cleaver.  
> Missouri's 5th is actually a solidly Democratic district but for the sake of this fic, I've made it more of a swing district.


	8. Perhaps we're both too afraid to make the leap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will and Kate have been inseparable since the first day of freshman year when her sarcasm and his joking brought them together as they moved into their rooms on the same floor. Now he's a junior captain of the men's rugby team, she's a coxswain for the men's rowing team, and they're still the very best of friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Imagine your OTP is home from a formal dance. They were looking forward to it, and now they’re both a little let down. Determined to have their evening of romance, they take off the uncomfortable parts of their expensive outfits and slow dance in the kitchen. Bonus points if they both find themselves nervous and clumsy because of how intimate it is, and how incredible the other looks in the low light, half-dressed.' AU

Kate looked up from her laptop as the door to her dorm opened and Will walked into the common room.

“Hi Will.”

“Hi.”

Saving her document, Kate closed her laptop and smiled at her friend. “Chips I bought are in the cupboard, coffee’s probably gone cold but Annalee picked up more Keurig pods this morning.”

Will nodded but didn’t reach for anything. Instead, he sat down next to her on the couch.

“Kate,” he began slowly, unsure.

“Will,” she responded, raising her eyebrows and folding her arms.

“You know the rugby team formal?”

“The one in two weeks you’ve been panicking about for months, Junior Captain of said rugby team?”

“That one. Well, it appears in all my panic that I’ve forgotten something very important.” All at once, Will was looking at her like something horribly serious was about to happen. “Kate, will you be my date to the formal?”

Kate could not help but laugh at the intensity of the moment. “Of course, Will. Backup friendship dates since my rowing team formal freshman year, right? Unless you’ve somehow forgotten the clusterfuck that was me getting dumped by my teammate two days before our formal because, if you have, can you please help me eradicate those memories?”

“Uh-huh, that what I thought.” Will nodded. “Well, now that’s sorted, chips?”

“Yeah, bring ‘em here. I paid for them anyway. Annalee’s saying you definitely do not provide enough food, by the way, and I think I agree with her.” Kate reopened her laptop and continued writing her essay.

Will got up to grab them from the cupboard and sank back down onto the couch next to Kate. “But there’s my wonderful personality to make up for it?”

“What personality?” Kate questioned, as she swung her legs over Will’s lap and stretched out her back.

“Rude!” Will spluttered, laughing as Kate reached across him to grab the chips, which he held far off, almost out of her reach.

Kate laughed as well, and Will eventually offered her the chips and she settled in to write her paper as he scrolled through his phone absent-mindedly.

The two were consistently casually tactile like this, after two years of close friendship and endless hours spent studying, hanging out and living together.

The physical familiarity of their respective teams, men’s rowing for which Kate was a coxswain and Will’s rugby team, also had something to do with it, to say nothing of the immediate connection Kate’s sarcasm and Will’s joking had created when they met on their floor on move-in day freshman year.

Two weeks later, after much debate over dresses and suits and rides and designated drivers, it was the day of the formal.

Taking a deep breath, Will knocked on the door to Kate’s room. She opened it herself, a hair grip grasped between her teeth and the second of a pair of earrings in her hand.

Removing the grip from her teeth, she smiled at him. “Sorry, I’ll only be a minute. You could’ve just yelled, you do live right there.” She tipped her head towards the wall they shared as she adjusted her hair.

Will watched her whirl away, burgundy skirt spinning out. He stood in the doorway adjusted the cuffs of his dark gray suit jacket carefully. It was a fraction too small, but overall a decent fit.

Kate turned back towards him a moment later, smiling as she fastened the clasps on each of her heels. Then with a flourish, she stuck another pin from her dresser into the messy bun at the nape of her neck and grinned at Will.

Will looked at the complete outfit, taking in the burgundy dress that cut straight across her chest, revealing her shoulders. “You look amazing.”

“Thank you, Will. You scrub up pretty well yourself. Ready?”

“Yep, Tom’s actually the one driving now, he’s parked behind Smith.”

Kate rolled her eyes as they walked out of her room and through the common room door together. Halfway down the first of three flights of stairs, Kate suddenly grabbed for Will’s shoulder, cursing quietly, as she picked her way down the stairs behind him.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, don’t I feel clumsy.”

Lacking a response to that, Will paused and waited till she was stood on the stair next to him to wrap his right arm around her waist. Casually, she slid her left arm across his shoulders, squeezing his shoulder as she dodged a particular crack in the concrete steps.

The two made it down the stairs without any further mishaps, automatically unraveling from each other as they approached the waiting car.

The evening went off without a major hitch, thankfully. After the senior captain gave his speech and proceeded to nearly break down into tears at the thought of graduating, Will took control of all the last minute issues that unsurprisingly occurred. This hopefully took some of the pressure from his friend’s shoulders. Will was not ashamed to admit that the Senior Captains’ speeches had choked him up as they spoke about what this team meant to them and how honored they were to have been a part of this team over the four years.

The minor problems Will handled included the smashing of glasses, avoiding injuries during the sweeping of shards and the semi-drunken stumbling of various team members. That these were so easier to solve mitigated was due in no small part to Kate. She helped him prevent drunken mishaps, checked on first-years who got a little too drunk in the women’s bathrooms, and smacked him upside the head when he made the mistake of saying it all seemed to be going well when the night had barely begun. However, with the exception of the Tinder Date fiasco, Will’s night was almost entirely time spent with his friends reminiscing on the highs and lows of the season, taking a ridiculous number of pictures, and gently teasing Kate about how stunning she looked.

The “Tinder Date Disaster” as Kate had taken to referring to it almost as soon as it was averted was something Will was sure could only happen to these teams. Two members of the women’s team, Piper and Diane, Kate had gleaned from the intimal surrounding mutterings, who were extremely recently broken up and not particularly amicably, had to be distracted from an argument by the buffet. The fight had been inspired by the presence of Piper’s plus-one, who had apparently matched with her on Tinder during a class and accepted an invitation to the formal. While able to empathize with both the feeling of being wronged by the presence of an ex’s date so soon after the breakup and said ex’s right to bring whomever she liked, neither Will nor Kate saw any benefit to a screaming match in front of the quiche.

Piper was distracted by Will’s proposal to the student manning the music that the traditional slow dance be moved up in the running order to “uh, right now?” and Will’s suggestion to the Tinder date (who was entirely innocent of any ulterior motives beyond an interest in the formal food and an initial interest in her date’s photos) that they join the swaying couples.

Kate, however, had taken Diane to one side and listened sympathetically to her teary explanations and slightly confused retellings of events, until her friends had been able to force their way through the unobservant crowd.

“Thanks so much, Kate,” the first friend who reached them began, to Kate’s great horror as she had no idea of this woman’s name, “Diane’s been having a rough time of it, as I’m sure you guessed.”

Kate shook her head. “Don’t worry about it, I just hope she can feel better soon.”

“We’ll see,” the friend responded, glaring pointedly over Kate’s shoulder at Piper and her date. She looked back at Kate a moment later, maintaining eye contact even as she pulled Diane into a one-armed hug. “Anyway, I’m so sorry you didn’t get your slow dance, but you and Will are actually the best. You’re so good together.” Rachel smiled brightly at her then, sympathetic and seemingly completely unaware of the bombshell currently reverberating through Kate’s skull. “Okay, I’m going to take this one to get pizza and fries and then we’ll put her to bed. See you around!”

Rachel gently tugged Diane towards the door, arm around her friend’s waist and expertly dodging potential opportunities for her to grab another drink.

Kate stood staring after them for a moment, watching as other members of the teams joined Rachel and Diane, clearly joking and distracting Diane from the dance floor which was beginning to clear as the music switched from the slow dance song to something more upbeat and significantly quieter.

Then Will appeared next to her, breathing a deep sigh of relief.

“I hope Diane’s okay. Sounds like she really got her heart broken.”

“I hope so too. But then the reason Piper was so insistent on bringing a date was that she was so devastated by the break -up, or so I heard, so maybe it’s no one’s fault in particular.”

Will nodded slowly, sipping a glass of fizzing champagne and handing a second to Kate. She smiled at him, taking it and tapping the glasses in a small toast.

When Kate smiled at him, Will felt as if, finally, the night was under control. It was a strange feeling, because—with the exception of the moment he feared Diane and Piper were about to dramatically and destructively express their emotional turmoil and fury—the formal had gone off without a hitch.

Perhaps it was just a side-effect of Kate’s smile.

Still, when Kate and he arrived back at the dorm, Will felt suddenly relieved and exhausted: the night had been draining even while amazing.

Standing in the common room, Will shrugged his jacket off onto a chair and undid his bowtie, leaving it hanging around his neck. As he undid his shirt cuffs and pulled off his shoes, he looked at Kate to see her stepping out of her shoes and beginning to undo her hair.

“How were your shoes?”

“They were lovely. I can’t feel my toes though.” With a dramatic huff, Kate slumped down onto the couch, tossing her legs onto the pillows.

“Alright, move your feet.” Will sat down next to her, as she raised her feet out of the way.

Smiling, Kate rested her feet in Will’s lap as she continued to pull a seemingly endless number of hairpins out of her curls, dropping them onto the windowsill behind her head. She flexed her feet slowly, clearly trying to work out soreness.

Will slowly took a hold of Kate’s foot, gently massaging the ball of her foot with his thumbs. Kate sighed and thanked him but blamed him for inviting her in the first place.

Gradually, he moved his hands along her foot up to the ankle and back, rubbing out the cramps with pressure from his thumbs. Then he switched to her other foot, focusing on the bright red marks from the over-tight shoe on her toes.

Kate lay across the arm of the couch, draping her now loose curly hair towards the floor, her bare shoulders tilted back.

“Will, you are officially the best date I’ve ever had. This might actually be the perfect end to a date.”

Will smiled across at her, hands continuing to rub circulation back into her toes. Then, however, he paused, hands still.

“It wasn’t a perfect date though, was it?” he began quietly.

Kate rolled her eyes and stretched her toes. “What are you talking about?”

“Well, if it were a date certain things would have gone differently. For example, you wouldn’t have been helping Diane cope with heartbreak, or checking on Gigi and Lydia to make they weren’t puking their guts up. I would’ve gotten you more than one drink.”

Kate struggled into a sitting position, feet sliding out of his lap. “Will?” She gazed at him, leaning towards him even as she sat up. “It wasn’t a date though, not really.” She paused, hand inching towards his as it rested on the couch next to him. “Right?” Her voice was full of wonder, potential, hope.

It lacked, Will noted with joy, fear or awkwardness.

“I can’t change any of that.” Standing quickly, Will reached out a hand towards her, arms open, back straight, a smirk on his face. “Kate, will you dance with me?”

She gazed up at him, eyes wide and brows furrowed.

Time stopped, and Will felt his throat close.

But then as suddenly as he had panicked (again), he was reassured (again).

Kate laughed and nodded. She swung her feet to the floor and stood, watching him carefully. The two were stood facing each other in the center of the room. He reached forward, placing his left hand on her hip and taking a hold of her right hand. Gently, Kate reached up and rested her other hand on his shoulder. All at once, the pair began to sway. Neither could have been certain who started the movement, but now they were moving, swaying side to side a little.

Kate rested her head against Will’s chest and he moved his left hand from her hip to the small of her back.

The familiarity between the two felt different when compared to the unthinking causal touch of this morning or even the apparently platonic moments that evening.

They continued to sway gently, turning a little, not quite dancing but the sentiment was clear.

But then Will took a step to his left bringing Kate with him and the two were pressed closer together, looking carefully into each other’s faces. The small steps from side to side became turning in a loose circle to music they couldn’t hear but which was entirely unnecessary.

As they stood there in the strangely soft light from the corridor in the middle of the common room, it felt like home. Will felt open and comfortable with the top buttons of his shirt undone, his cuffs rolled, loose bowtie hanging around his neck, and almost slipping on socks on the floor. Looking at Kate, loose hair curling over her shoulders and her bare feet flat on the floor, something changed. Or rather, something that had already begun to change reached its tipping point: the terror of crossing the line from friends to something else seemed to evaporate.

As Will looked at Kate, all the beauty of her at her most formal and all the familiarity of their friendship he felt a clarity of focus on her, on them.

Kate suddenly but somehow still expectedly reached both her hands towards Will’s face, running a thumb along his cheekbone. Will lowered his right hand to her lower back to match his other. Then, as she leaned towards him, reaching a little in her bare feet, he kissed her, the terrifying act becoming expected and calm all at once.

 “That’s the thing about rugby formals,” Will whispered into her hair, “They may be a series of disasters or liable to occasional furious arguments, but they have slow dancing.”

Kate traced the lines of his shoulders with her fingertips and then wrapped her arms around his neck again, giggling under her breath. “Yes, nothing screams romance like drunken freshmen snogging or the wonderful smell of stale beer.”

Will shrugged and chuckled. “Nor does the common room at two in the morning, but I’m running out of options.”

Kate rolled her eyes and placed her hands on his chest, just below his collarbones. Will kissed her again, feeling her smirk soften.

As she broke the kiss, Kate began to talk, whispering into the space between them, “Rachel apologized that Diana and Piper’s blow-up meant we missed the slow dance. I didn’t understand her then. But I do now, obviously.”

Will glanced away for a second but then he was looking into her eyes and Kate felt suddenly utterly confident with the joy suddenly leaping in her throat.

“I hadn’t realized you felt that way. The way I feel, I mean. And then she said that, and I realized, I don’t why it took her saying that because I barely know the girl, that she wasn’t just teasing, they haven’t all been teasing me for months, they’ve been teasing us because you feel the same way.”

Will grinned at her and Kate blushed, her words feeling redundant as Will tightened his hands on her waist. She kissed him instead of saying anything else.

As they broke apart, Kate resting her head in the crook of his neck, Will whispered into her hair, holding her close to him. “I’m glad you said that. I’m glad we both know we know, because, Kate, I wouldn’t want you to think I’m anything less than all in. I just didn’t know how to say it.”

Will felt her roll her eyes, but even as she did she moved impossibly closer to him.

They stood there in the dim light shining from the hallway, swaying slightly and holding each other close. It felt like everything had shifted slightly and yet nothing had changed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original Prompt: 'Imagine your OTP is home from a cheesy, boring wreck of a formal dance. They were looking forward to it, and now they’re both very let down. Determined to have their evening of romance, they take off the uncomfortable parts of their expensive outfits and slow dance to their favorite song in the kitchen. Bonus points if they both find themselves nervous and clumsy because of how intimate it is, and how incredible the other looks in the low light, half-dressed.'
> 
> I took some liberties obviously but this was the original idea.


End file.
